Holiday Cheer
by Thursday Next
Summary: Will Cole get a second chance at love? Oh, the suspense! Read and find out!
1. Mysterious introduction

Testing, one two three..  
  
This is only a test, don't panic.. not that anyone's reading this anyway..  
  
It was a dark and stormy night. No, seriously, it really was. We're not talking a little rain, some clouds and a light breeze. This was a full out blizzard on a moonless night, with wind gusts that could pick up an Oliphant and carry it far, far away. Where it could meet up with a circus troop in France and become rich and famous. But where was I?  
  
Blizzards near the North Pole are nothing to sniff at, often lasting for months at a time. When these storms hit, all the unfortunate inhabitants can do is hunker down, trade stories and anecdotes around the fire, and fervently hope that the supplies last. Woe betides any poor soul to get caught outside in such a storm. It was generally accepted that anyone in such a situation was well and truly screwed. This was not good news for the lone traveler plowing through the snow in the heart of the maelstrom.  
  
At first glance, the person or creature would seem to be nothing more than a collection of brightly colored clothes that had decided to take a walk. Not an inch of skin or hair was showing, and a pair of dark-tinted goggles perched on the heap at about eye level. Pink scarves, neon green coats and an assortment of bright orange hats trembled in the gale. The storm itself seemed offended by this barrage of color, and sought to bury the entire ensemble in deathly alabaster.  
  
The figure might have been tall, if it hadn't been bent almost double against the onslaught of wind and snow. It seemed to be plowing through the snow rather than walking over it, which made for very slow going. The bundled traveler struggled up to the nearest snow drift and paused. A gloved hand reached out and pushed on the side of the drift. At first nothing happened, and then a shelf of snow collapsed down and an open door was revealed. The bundle quickly shuffled through the doorway and out of sight. 


	2. The Plot or something like it

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Charmed, they are the property of Brad Kern and whoever else owns Charmed. Tomika is my original character, though. No stealing without my permission!  
  
Bookwormqueen: Ask and ye shall receive! Thanks very much for reviewing! *Cries with gratitude and gives you a cookie*  
  
The heavy oak door eased open ponderously, allowing gusts of frozen wind and snow to invade the muted warmth of the dimly lit living room. The bundle of clothes tumbled through the doorway and landed in a heap on the slippery floor. Muttered curses issued from the figure as it picked itself up and leaned its entire mass against the door to close it again. The wind protested shrilly, beating against the door with increased force and forcing it to open wider. With a Herculean effort, the irked figure lunged against the door, slamming it shut. The wind died down to a forlorn moaning outside, defeated.  
  
After a second's pause slumped against the wall to regain its breath, the figure trudged towards a table with a tray filled with cups of steaming coca, shedding garments and snowflakes as it went. Gradually, a girl emerged from the mass of clothing, short blond hair matted against her forehead. She shook the remaining snow off vigorously, ripped the final fuzzy hat off her head, and groaned as her hair stood up straight, strands waving like one of those static electricity globes. She desperately tried to mat it down with her hands, to no effect. She snorted in irritation, grabbing an enormous mug of hot chocolate from the tray before settling down in one of the many large squashy leather chairs set up around the cheerily illuminated fireplace. The light cast from the dancing flames only served to enhance the shadows of the vast room.  
  
The girl has just taken the first sip of the perfectly steaming hot chocolate when a low growling voice issued from the shadows by her left shoulder.  
  
"We have a problem, Thursday."  
  
The girl choked and sputtered, hot chocolate spraying everywhere. She turned and glared at the offending speaker with all the rage of one-who-has- been-deprived-of-hot-chocolate-and-had-their-very-first-sip-ruined. A fuzzy face with large cute eyes stared back at her, implacable.  
  
"I told you to stop doing that, Tomika!" Thursday gasped out forcefully, somewhat miffed that the gopher wasn't even the slightest bit impressed with her glare of doom.  
  
Tomika was unrepentant. "I know. But this is important," he intoned solemnly. "You need to see this."  
  
Thursday was reluctantly curious, and slightly concerned. Anything Tomika was upset about was nothing to sniff at. She suspected that the demon gopher would view the end of the world as only a minor inconvenience.  
  
"Oookay," she carefully set down the remainder of her coca and stood up quickly. "Lead the way."  
  
Tomika led her away from the warm fireplace, towards a shadowy corner of the room. The gopher seemed to glide from shadow to shadow as if he were a part of them. Thursday struggled to keep up, weaving through the maze of chairs and tables. She was just about to say something when she saw Tomika stop up ahead. She followed his gaze to a solitary chair and the figure slumped in it.  
  
He had what could have been a handsome face, if it wasn't so worn from fatigue and drink. Short dark hair and eyebrows, a proud nose and strong forehead contrasted with the red circles standing out under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn't bothered to shave in weeks, stubble blurring the lines of his chin and mouth. He was mostly in shadow, the fleeting flashes of firelight giving him a skeletal appearance. A glass of whiskey hung loosely from the fingers of his right hand, draped over the side of the chair.  
  
Thursday shook her head sadly. She had a feeling that something like this would happen. She gazed silently at the broken man before her, wishing there was some way to undo the past.  
  
"Cole Turner." 


	3. More talkytalk

**Disclaimer: Charmed is the property of Brad Kern and whoever else, just not me! Tomika is mine, though. clutches possessively at her demon gopher**  
  
_Oookaay, here's the next chapter in this thrilling story. I'm sure you're overjoyed. If anyone's here at all. Anyone? crickets chirping Well, at least my loyal contingent of crickets won't leave me! cricket chirping ceases Fine. Be that way.  
  
You know the drill, read and review. It will make me insanely happy, and will get you a cookie (they're delicious). Pleeeeaase review._  
  
Thursday sighed heavily and turned away, ignoring Tomika's penetrating stare. She had only taken two steps before the gopher appeared in front of her, blocking her path firmly.  
  
"What are you going to do?" He growled, a faint note of accusation present in his voice.  
  
Thursday threw her hands up in exasperation. "There's nothing I _can_ do, Tomika! What am I supposed to do, go over and talk? What am I going to say? 'It must really suck that your soul-mate, the love of your life, finally killed you once and for all. Tough luck'?"  
  
"I believe the correct term is to "vanquish." The gopher corrected mildly.  
  
"Whatever! The point is, he has nothing! No one! Why shouldn't he be depressed?!"  
  
"It's more than that and you know it," Tomika rumbled "He's going to become dangerous. Or have you forgotten that he still has some powers here?"  
  
Thursday groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose fiercely. "No, I haven't forgotten," she snapped "but what am I supposed to do? Throw him out?" She gestured at the oak door, behind which the blizzard still raged on.  
  
"No. Talk to him. _Help_ him."  
  
"He won't listen to me. He's too proud and stubborn. That's part of what got him killed in the first place. Well, that and going insane," Thursday amended.  
  
"Try." Tomika stared at her unmercifully, brooking no argument.  
  
Thursday hesitated, biting her lip and avoiding Tomika's gaze. "All right," she muttered, resigned. "I'll try." She glared at the gopher warningly. "But it's not going to work."  
  
Cole Turner stared into the whiskey glass, watching the amber liquid swirl slowly, forming a sheen on the clear surface. He finished off the remaining amount and started to pour another glass, only to discover the bottle was empty. He let it fall to the floor with a dull thunk. He stared at the glass for a moment, cradling it in his hand, examining the way the firelight danced in the smooth surface. Anger surged and he threw the glass against the wall viciously, with a snapping wrist motion that looked almost casual. It shattered loudly, littering the rug with glass shards.  
  
Cole hardly noticed. He stared at his hand expressionlessly with the care of someone extremely drunk. He slowly formed an energy ball, holding it close to his face, singing his eyebrows with its heat.  
  
"Hey!" Cole twisted sharply to face the voice, cradling the deadly orb in his hand. The figure took a hasty step back. "Uh, you should put that down, mister," she offered, a noticeable quiver in her voice. Cole merely continued to glare. He couldn't quite make out her face from that distance; the shadows and the whiskey were blurring his vision.  
  
Seemingly encouraged by the fact that he wasn't attacking her yet, the girl stepped slightly closer. Her face became clearer and Cole noted that she had her hands slightly raised in a defensive position. _Like that's going to help_, he snarked to himself. Her eyes were fixed on the energy ball hovering in his palm.  
  
"So," she continued unsteadily as she sidestepped cautiously closer, "are you gonna put it out or what?" She yelped and ducked, narrowly avoiding the sizzling orb of destruction as it whizzed past her ear. It spattered against the wall behind her, singing the panels.  
  
Cole easily summoned another one. "Or what," he drawled menacingly, vaguely disgusted by her obvious fear. She started to back away, and then stopped, biting her lip nervously. She stared at his face for a long moment, and seemed to find something there that strengthened her resolve. Cole snarled and made a half lunge, hoping to scare her off, but it didn't have the intended effect that time. Her fear seemed to have dissolved, and she quickly strode forward and sat down in the chair next to him. Cole just gaped at her, too surprised and drunk to react.  
  
The girl had completely recovered her confidence by then, and adopted a strangely businesslike attitude. "Right then," she said briskly, "My name's Thursday, and I own this place." She stuck out her hand and grinned cheekily, ruining the somber effect.  
  
Cole let the energy ball extinguish in his hand and slumped back in the chair, exhausted. "Go away." He growled at the girl, rubbing his eyes tiredly. _Why won't you leave me alone?  
_  
She shook her head firmly. "No can do, Cole. This situation has to stop." She leaned back quickly as Cole surged upright, eyes blazing.  
  
"How do you know my name? Who are you?" he demanded angrily, the energy ball reappearing and hovering dangerously close to Thursday. She shied away from the heat, but remained infuriatingly calm. "Tell me," Cole ground out, trying to provoke the fear from before, "Who sent you?"  
  
"No one sent me." Thursday quietly replied, ignoring the danger and watching Cole's face intently. "I own this place, remember? _You_ came _here_."  
  
Cole felt a surge of frustration, and he nearly threw the energy ball right there. "What is this place? Where am I?" His hand shook slightly and he had a slightly crazed look in his eyes.  
  
Thursday suddenly looked wary at these new questions. "You...don't remember?" _This is not good. Doesn't he know why he's here?_  
  
"Remember what?"  
  
Thursday eyed all possible escape routes, keenly aware of the highly unstable and drunk half-demon glowering at her. _Oh, he's not gonna like this._ She cringed internally and readied herself for a somersault out of the armchair. She was sure that Cole wouldn't normally attack an innocent, but that was when he was himself and sober. This was a different matter entirely. A million different responses flashed through her mind, including lying or denying all knowledge. Thursday settled on telling him the hard truth. There was no way to break it to him gently. She took a deep breath and steeled herself.  
  
"Cole, Phoebe kill—_vanquished_ you again." She saw a light of recognition in his eyes and knew that he remembered _that_, at least. She held up a hand to forestall his response, determined to finish what she had to say. "I know you've been vanquished before, but this is different. You can't go back to her. It's over."  
  
Cole sat back in disbelief as the energy ball faded away, his hand limp. He stared at Thursday dully, all fire gone. Thursday was struck by how tired he looked then, weighed down and hopeless. "I don't believe you," he muttered finally, but his voice lacked conviction.  
  
Thursday gestured at their surroundings, her voice gentle. "Look around you. This isn't the Wasteland. There are no demons falling from the sky." Her voice hardened slightly. "And you can't get back to your life."  
  
Cole seemed to snap to attention at that. "If that's true, then why do I still have my powers?" He challenged, a hint of belligerence showing through the apathy.  
  
Thursday shrugged. "They're a part of who you are. You'll notice that now you only have the powers you were born with. Those nifty Avatar powers are long gone." She shifted uncomfortably. "You really don't know why you're here?"  
  
Cole smiled mirthlessly, his empty eyes making her shiver. "Besides the fact that I'm dead? No." He leaned forward casually, completely at ease. "So why don't you tell me?"  
  
Thursday eased back slightly, unnerved by his Cole's sudden change in mood. "Um...well," she stuttered, off balance, "you're here because, you are a...special case." She nervously checked for Cole's reaction, to which he merely raised an eyebrow. Thursday fidgeted and continued. "Your...ah, _history_ and unique heritage means that the transition may be a little more difficult than most people's."  
  
Cole interrupted sharply. "The transition to being dead."  
  
"Right." Thursday was starting to warm to the subject. "Since you've already been vanquished once before, you're less likely to accept being dead this time around." Cole said nothing, which Thursday took as a signal to continue. "You also have some _seriously_ unfinished business to attend to before you cross over."  
  
"Phoebe." Cole stared into the fire, absorbed in memories.  
  
"Yes, her and...other things." Thursday hesitated as Cole continued to stare, lost in his reverie. "Listen, how about we talk more later? You're still drunk and you should really have a clear head before I tell you any more."  
  
She deftly snatched the empty bottle from the floor and slid out of the chair. "And the bar is officially closed for you, mister." She disappeared into the shadows before Cole could voice a protest.  
  
He considered going after her, but there hardly seemed to be a point. He shifted his gaze back to the hypnotic dance of the fire, remembering Phoebe. _Where did it all go wrong?_ Memories of brighter times played out in front of him, the images dancing in the firelight. Phoebe smiling up at him, her eyes so full of love that nothing else in the world mattered, not even the Source. Phoebe saving him from his inner demon time and again, refusing to give up even when he had forgotten who he was. _Why did you give up on me this time?_ He slipped into unconsciousness with Phoebe's face shining in his mind like a beacon, guiding him home. 


	4. Journey's beginning

**Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed! Brad Kern and other TV execs and such do! Not me! However, I do own Tomika.  
**  
_Yay! More readers! gives Tessalynne a cookie You have increased my motivation to write tenfold! Or at least twofold, anyways. Sorry this is such a short chapter, I'll write more soon....if you review! Muahahahaha! Please?_  
  
Cole awoke to a ferocious headache and a mouth drier than the Wasteland's deserts. The world shifted in and out of focus and his stomach churned as he tried to sit up. He slumped back into the chair as a bout of dizziness made the world spin. He futilely massaged his temples in an effort to banish the stabbing pain behind his eyes. The fire had long since died and the air was chilled, making Cole shiver involuntarily. Stray bits of memory floated around in his mind as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He remembered sitting in this chair, drinking himself into oblivion in front of the fire. He tried to concentrate, groping blindly in his mind for what had happened before that. How did he get here?  
  
"Good morning!" A girl's face suddenly appeared in front of his eyes, so close that her nose was practically touching his. Cole jerked back, nearly cross-eyed at the sudden apparition. The face came back into focus and Cole caught a glimpse of green eyes and blond hair before the girl ducked out of sight. She reappeared with a tray of steaming mugs and continued to chatter as Cole's beleaguered brain fought to keep up.  
  
"It's good afternoon, actually. You slept through most of the day." She looked at him expectantly.  
  
Cole simply gaped as his memory returned. He managed to speak on his second try, rasping through a parched throat. "Thursday."  
  
She beamed at him. "You remembered! Wow, I'm impressed. You drank like a horse last night." She took in his haggard appearance and bloodshot eyes. "You must have the worst hangover ever right now."  
  
Cole snorted. "I've had worse." He wasn't sure if that was exactly true. At the moment, his brain felt like it was trying to claw its way out of his skull. Thursday smiled and shoved a warm mug into his hands.  
  
"Drink. This should help."  
  
Cole stared at the dark liquid dubiously. It looked like hot chocolate, but still... _It's not like you can poison a dead man, anyway_. He shrugged and took a sip. Sweet chocolate eased down his throat, soothing his roiling stomach. He took another gulp and was surprised to notice his headache fading away. He gulped the rest of the mug quickly, scorching his tongue in the process.  
  
Thursday watched with a hint of amusement. "It's a special recipe," she offered as he drained the mug dry. "Specifically designed to cure hangovers, sore throats, and broken bones." She frowned speculatively. "I'm not quite sure how it works, actually. Tomika makes it, not me."  
  
Cole set the mug down and licked his lips. "Tomika?"  
  
"You'll meet him soon." She impatiently waved at him. "Come on then, let's go."  
  
Cole stood up, feeling refreshed and strong. "Go where?"  
  
"You'll see." Thursday set off into the maze of chairs at a brisk pace.  
  
"Wait!" Cole growled in frustration and jogged to keep up. The chairs seemed to be set up in a haphazard manner, with no pattern or order that Cole could see. He eased between chairs and end tables as quickly as he could without knocking anything over. Thursday seemed to have less difficulty and slipped in and out of sight between the stockades of furniture. Most of the chairs were empty, but Cole noticed a few shadowy occupants as he passed by. A bright light glimmered up ahead and Cole stepped out onto an open ballroom floor with checkered black and white tiles.  
  
Thursday was waiting at the far end, standing next to the source of the light. It looked like a mirror, except instead of glass it held a shimmering silver liquid that swirled slowly.  
  
"Last night you said you'd explain everything." Cole's voice echoed in the room and the silver liquid seemed to shiver in response. As he got closer, Cole could just make out delicate etchings on the white frame of the mirror- like object. The entire thing was twice his height and as wide as a doorway. It looked like a stable portal to another dimension.  
  
"Did I really say that?" Thursday shook her head. "I can't explain everything. That would take too long."  
  
"We will tell you what you need to know." A bass voice rumbled firmly, issuing from behind him. Cole turned and saw a gopher sitting on its haunches, staring at him intensely.  
  
"Cole, meet Tomika. Tomika, Cole." Thursday casually made the introductions, seemingly oblivious to Cole's disbelieving stare. Tomika briefly bowed his head and Cole fought back a sudden urge to burst out laughing. He had just been vanquished, gotten dead drunk, met a crazy girl and been introduced to a talking gopher. He was feeling slightly unhinged as a result. _Enough is enough._  
  
He summoned an energy ball and turned back to face a startled Thursday. He stalked towards her, carefully gritting out each word. "What is going on?"  
  
Thursday quickly recovered from the shock and smiled brightly as he glared down at her. "Closure." With unnerving speed, she grabbed his free arm and swung him off-balance. The energy ball extinguished and Cole had time for one brief shout before Thursday shoved him headfirst into the portal. There was a blinding flash of light and he disappeared.  
  
Thursday dusted herself off and met Tomika's disapproving glare. "What? It worked!" She protested indignantly. "Not the way we had planned, but he'll be okay." She gazed into the silver portal worriedly. "I hope." 


	5. Confusion

**Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed! Brad Kern and other TV execs and such do! Not me! However, I do own Tomika. And the character Thursday.**

**Barb6: dies of shock Someone…likes…my….writing…? Wow. Unbelieeevable! I love Cole or Cole/Phoebe stories too, so I decided to try and write one. I'm glad you like so far. gives out your choice of favorite cookie**

**I suffer from the procrastination virus, meaning I don't update nearly often enough. Sorry! I'm undergoing treatment, but it's a long and painful process. Reviews and feedback are my medication of choice. **

Cole swam in inky blackness, his lungs filled with lead. He flailed out frantically at the nothingness, his chest heaving with futile attempts to breathe. There was no air here. There was nothing to touch, see, or smell in the realm between worlds. His fingers had gone numb from the freezing cold and the chill spread quickly throughout his body, racing through his blood. He tried to shout, and a searing liquid poured down his throat, choking him.

He retched and coughed violently, until suddenly there was air in his lungs again. He hunched over and put his hands on his knees, trying to stay upright. The blackness stubbornly remained until he regained his senses and opened his eyes to see scuffed black shoes and a sidewalk. His hearing returned next, as he gradually became aware of the babbling of voices. He was too disconcerted to register what they were saying, and focused on straightening up safely as gravity made its presence known. Despite his efforts, he swayed a little and would have fallen if someone hadn't grasped him by the arm. The person steadied him and gently steered him up some stairs and into a house.

Cole's hands and feet were stinging with pins and needles as the numbness receded. He felt something in his right hand and was surprised to see that he was clutching a bouquet of flowers like it was a lifeline. He stared down at the daises in befuddlement, more confused than ever. The mystery presence gently pried the flowers from his hand, finally getting Cole's attention. He tried to focus on her as she bustled about the foyer and lead him to a chair, chattering the entire way. She chirped something about a glass of water and disappeared into the kitchen before he could see her face. Distractions gone, Cole took to studying his surroundings, struck by a nagging sense of familiarity. There was something…

Cole spun around to peer over the back of the couch into the foyer, a feeling of dread weighting his chest. The view confirmed his suspicions. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. He was sitting in the living room of the Halliwell manor. The home of the Charmed Ones.

"Here you go." Cole startled at the sudden voice and nearly conjured an energy ball in his panic. Phoebe was walking towards him with a glass of water and a kindly expression. Cole's heart jumped at the obvious warmth in her smile. She handed him the glass and sat down next to him, completely at ease. Cole sat contentedly, savoring the opportunity to study her face once more, to see her look at him without hatred or fear. How long had it been since he had seen her this way?

She gestured towards the glass in his hand. "Have some water, it should help that cough." Cole mechanically raised the glass to his lips, barely registering the cool liquid. He couldn't care about anything at the moment, not even how he had gotten here. Phoebe was _right there_, close enough to touch. Her face suddenly changed to an expression of concern as she took in Cole's dazed appearance.

"Are you alright?" She rested the back of her hand against his forehead, checking for a fever. Cole flinched at her touch, shocked at the feel of her cool skin against his. Electricity thrummed though his veins, and he fought the sudden impulse to take her in his arms and kiss her breathless. Phoebe bit her lip in concern, completely unaware of the conflict raging within the object of her attention. She looked absolutely adorable like that, and she didn't hate him or want to kill him, so… _Oh, the hell with this._ Cole leaned forward for the kiss, feeling happier than he had felt in a long time.

"Don't you dare!"

Cole lurched back in surprise before he realized that the voice wasn't Phoebe's. She looked more worried than ever at his sudden movement. "What's wrong?"

A hand waved forcefully in front of Cole's face, making him jump again. Thursday was standing behind the couch, glowering down at him like a scolding mother.

"_What_ do you think you're doing?"

"Mr. McInroy, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Cole gaped at Thursday while Phoebe inched closer, trying to get his attention. She gently shook him by the shoulder, trying to jar him out of his daze. Cole couldn't even bring himself to enjoy her touch at the moment. What the hell was going on?

"What are you doing here?" He snapped viciously at Thursday. This wasn't right, this couldn't be happening. It was perfect, he was with Phoebe again, but now this girl was here to ruin things. _Again_.

"I'm keeping you from screwing things up even more!" Thursday waved her arms in the air violently. "Sheesh, I leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens." Cole started to respond but she cut him off. "Listen up, bud. You're in mortal danger right now unless you do _exactly_ as I say. Capiche?"

Cole suddenly realized that Phoebe had leaned back and was regarding him with some wariness. "Mr. McInroy, who are you talking to?" She spoke very softly, as though to a frightened child, but Cole noticed the guardedness in her eyes. He suddenly remembered that she was a Charmed One, fully capable of vanquishing him if she chose.

"I…don't…" Cole stuttered a little, completely lost. Thursday was right there, clearly visible and (unfortunately) audible. And why did Phoebe keep calling him Mr. McInroy?

"Need some help?" Thursday smirked from behind him. "Alright, tell her that you were just a little confused after your asthma attack. You weren't sure what was happening, and your mind went fuzzy." She leveled a finger at him sternly. "Call her Miss Halliwell, and act like I don't exist."

Cole looked back to Phoebe, nearly flinching at the growing mistrust in her face. He couldn't stand to have her look at him that way again.

"Just got a little confused for a second." Thursday frowned, and Cole remembered. "Miss Halliwell," he corrected hastily. "Must have been the asthma, sorry I drifted off there." Phoebe visibly relaxed and Cole felt a rush of relief.

"That's okay," she smiled gently and patted his hand. "How do you feel now?"

Cole didn't need Thursday's frantic gestures to know the correct answer. "Much better, thank you, Miss Halliwell." He reluctantly stood up and Phoebe followed suit as Thursday pointed to the door. "I should get going now, I suppose." Cole had no idea _where_ he should be going, but out of the manor sounded like a good start.

"Okay," Phoebe walked with him to the door, her hand hovering near his shoulder to steady him. "Thank you so much for delivering the flowers."

It took a few seconds before Cole realized she was referring to the bouquet he had been holding when he first got there. "My pleasure," he managed to reply, puzzling over that new fact. He was a delivery boy?

Phoebe noticed the pause. "Are you sure you're alright? Maybe you should take a vacation, Mr. McInroy." She urged kindly as she opened the door. "You work too hard."

Cole smiled weakly at her. "I'll be fine. Good afternoon, Miss Halliwell." He forced himself not to look back at her as he walked down the steps to a delivery truck. He heard the door close behind him and felt a strange mix of relief and sadness.

To distract himself, he examined the truck at the curb for clues. _Frannie's Flowers and Gifts_ was emblazoned on the side of the small vehicle, along with some pictures of colorful bouquets and presents. There was no one inside at the moment.

Cole glanced down at himself and finally noticed what he was wearing. It was a dark blue uniform jumpsuit with a name tag clipped to the breast pocket. It read "Tom McInroy, flower transportation specialist." Cole snorted at the pompous sounding job title. _Glorified delivery boy indeed_. He fished around in his pockets and found the car keys. It wasn't until he had started up the truck that realized that he had no idea where to go.

"Go down this road until the third stoplight, then take a right." Cole jumped and glared at Thursday as she grinned at him from the passenger's seat.

"What the hell is this?" Cole clenched his fists to avoid wrapping his fingers around Thursday's throat.

Thursday remained blissfully oblivious to his murderous desires. "You are Tom McInroy, age sixty five, a long time employee of Frannie's Flowers and Gifts. You have delivered to the Halliwell manor several times and have met each of the sisters. You are vulnerable to asthma attacks and it's past time for you to retire." She recited the facts dryly and checked for his reaction. "Think of it as your cover."

Cole only cared about one thing at the moment. "Why didn't Phoebe recognize me?"

"See for yourself. Use the review mirror."

Cole tilted the mirror down and saw an older man with graying hair and blue eyes staring back at him. He touched his face and saw the old gentleman do the same, but where he saw wrinkles, he felt smooth skin. "What -?"

"You're wearing his aura." Thursday explained. "You look and sound like him to everyone else. The real Tom McInroy is safe and sleeping. The guy deserves some rest."

"Why am I here?"

"Closure, like I said. This was the only way to bring you back, so to speak." She clapped her hands briskly. "Okay, here are the ground rules: One, no talking to me when other people are around, unless you want to spend the entire time in an asylum. Two, no using your powers for any reason. Three, no telling anyone else who you really are. Break rules two and three and this little field trip is over."

Cole knew the question had to be asked. "How long do I have?"

"One week."

Cole felt the anger surge back immediately. This wasn't even close to fair. "One week? What am I supposed to do with that?"

"For starters, you can go back to work. Marie will be waiting with a fresh set of deliveries." Thursday shook her head at Cole's incredulous expression. "This isn't just about Phoebe, you know. There are other things you have to fix. Don't spend too much time moping around her or you're outta here. Remember, down here until the third stoplight, then take a right. It'll be the second building on your left." There was a dull glow and a humming noise, and then she was gone.

Cole sat there for a few minutes and seriously contemplated ignoring everything Thursday had told him. Was it really worth it for one lousy week? A vision of Phoebe's smiling face floated into his mind. Swearing ferociously, he yanked the truck into gear and sped off down the road.


	6. Day on the Job

**Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed! Brad Kern and other TV execs and such do! Not me! However, I do own Tomika. And the character Thursday**.  
  
** I suffer from the procrastination virus, meaning I don't update nearly often enough. Sorry! I'm undergoing treatment, but it's a long and painful process. Reviews and feedback are my medication of choice**   
  
Twenty minutes later, Cole arrived at _Frannie's Flowers and Gifts_, having survived traffic jams, overzealous police officers, and a disgruntled fellow driver. He shut off the truck and sat back, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to fight off his burgeoning headache. He had forgotten what a pain driving in San Francisco could be, especially without his regular sports car, courtesy of Jackman, Carter & Klein.  
  
"Tom?"  
  
Cole looked up in surprise at the short, brown haired woman standing next to the door. He hadn't even heard her approaching, a slip that would have been fatal in his Belthazor days. _I'm losing my edge.  
_  
"Hmm?" Cole made a noncommittal noise to buy time and got out of the truck, wondering how he was going to bluff through this one. He didn't even know this woman's name. Then again, bluffing was once of Cole's major talents.  
  
"Are you okay?" The woman gently put her hand on his arm in a familiar gesture of concern.  
  
"I'm fine, sweetheart," Cole blustered, patting her hand like the arthritic old man he was supposed to be. "Just a little tired."  
  
The woman adopted a stern expression as she steered him towards the service entrance of the shop. "Don't try that with me, old man," she scolded firmly, "we both know you need a break. Why don't you take a vacation, Tom?"  
  
Cole harrumphed and shook his head, hoping no further comment was needed. He took careful note of his surroundings as they strolled though the cramped corridors between tall shelves. He didn't want to get lost; his companion seemed concerned enough about his mental state as it was. He took a discreet glance of her nametag when she looked away for a second. _Marie Landvik. Flower and gift distribution supervisor_. Cole barely repressed a disbelieving snort. Who came up with these job titles?  
  
Marie wasn't about to give up on her diatribe just yet. "Just a few days off to rest, Tom! When was the last time you took a vacation?"  
  
_Drop it already!_ Cole gritted his teeth as she looked at him expectantly. "Ah, I don't really remember. It's not important." He tried to wave her off, hoping to get this entire ordeal over with quickly.  
  
They emerged from the storage rooms into the shop, which was brimming with colors and bright displays. A cluster of balloons hovered near the counter, upon which stood a cash register and telephone, along with several key ring and magnet displays. Marie looked like she hadn't given up on her argument, and Cole was grateful when the telephone rang, granting him a temporary reprieve. Marie rushed to the phone and Cole took the opportunity to study the shop further.  
  
It was a deceptively small shop at first glance, crammed full with card racks, shelves of stuffed animals, and glassworks. There was a low wooden table lined with chairs and covered in flower catalogs along the other side of the wall. Behind the counter was a row of glass display cases, revealing model corsages, bouquets, and boutonnieres.  
  
Gradually, Cole's attention shifted to Marie herself as she chattered on the phone and scribbled in a nearby appointment book. She was quite a bit shorter than he was, around 5'4", with curly, dark brown hair and brown eyes. She had a short, businesslike haircut and dressed conservatively, with plain black slacks and a simple blue blouse. She was trim but not skinny, and wore a simple gold wedding band along with a pair of dangling gold leaf earrings. She looked to be in her mid-thirties.  
  
Cole's inspection was interrupted by a sudden noise from behind. He turned in time to see a large woman wearing a bright pink blouse barreling towards him and looking distinctly displeased.  
  
"What took you so long? You're ten minutes late! And what are you doing just standing here? We have twelve orders waiting!" The woman's oversized, elaborate earrings and necklaces trembled with the force of her umbrage. She towered over him through sheer force of will, disregarding his nearly foot's worth of advantage in height. Flummoxed, Cole looked to Marie for help. Thankfully, she had finished her phone call and she quickly came to his rescue.  
  
"It's my fault, Frannie," she explained calmly as she picked up a clipboard of papers and came out from behind the counter. "He didn't know the orders yet, and I got tied up with that phone call..."  
  
Frannie irritably waved away the explanation. "Fine. Get him the orders now and send him off." She brushed past them both and settled behind the counter, leaving behind the scent of heavy perfume behind.  
  
Marie gently urged Cole towards the back room as she perused the list on her clipboard. "Go on, I'll meet you at the truck with the orders."  
  
Cole found his way back to the truck with little difficulty, to his relief. He hauled open the bay door in the back of the truck and waited for Marie impatiently. He wanted to get this over with so he could see Phoebe again. If the situation had been different, Cole would have ignored Thursday completely. As it was, Cole knew he was walking a thin line. He needed to find a way to make this "visit" to the real world permanent, without Thursday finding out and banishing him. One thing was certain; he wasn't giving up Phoebe without a fight.  
  
The storage door opened and Marie staggered out, swaying under the weight of several packages and bouquets. Her face was hidden by a large cluster of lilies as she lurched towards the truck. Cole chuckled a little at the sight and hurried to help her. They loaded the packages quickly and Marie idly picked leaves out of her hair while she showed him the addresses. As they peered over the list together, Cole noted the dark circles under Marie's eyes.  
  
"Next time, you let me help with those," Cole gestured to the pile of packages in the truck. "You looked ridiculous."  
  
Marie gave him a rueful smile. "Fine. Now get going, would you? Frannie's upset enough as it is. We're expecting a lot of orders on Mother's Day, so we can't get behind."  
  
It suddenly occurred to Cole that he didn't know what day it was, or even the year. _How long has it been?  
_  
"Marie, wait!" She stopped at the door with a puzzled expression.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
There wasn't any help for it. He had to know. "What's the date?"  
  
Marie's face became strangely blank. "It's Sunday, May 2nd, 2004." She disappeared through the door before Cole could thank her.  
  
He started the truck and sat back, stunned. _Two years?_ He couldn't believe it had been that long. Time must have passed differently for him, trapped in exile. Phoebe would have changed in two years. What if she loved someone else? Cole pounded the steering wheel angrily. That couldn't be true. They were soul-mates, they were meant to be together! She would remember _that_, two years or no. He just needed more time to convince her. A week wasn't nearly enough.  
  
For the rest of the day, Cole's thoughts were occupied solely with Phoebe. He barely remembered the various houses and deliveries, lost in his plans of escape. He was surprised to find it was nearly six o'clock when he finished the last delivery. He drove back to the shop, wearied and frustrated.  
  
Frannie was the only one waiting at the counter. She glowered at him. "_Finally_. There weren't any problems with deliveries?"  
  
Cole shook his head, too tired to be irked at her haughty tone. She sniffed dismissively. "Good. Now help me close the shop, then you can go home."  
  
Cole glanced around the shop curiously. "Where's Marie?"  
  
Frannie eyed him suspiciously. "She went home early. Not that it's any of your business." Cole reluctantly helped her move the empty cash register into a cupboard and locked it. "Poor woman," Frannie added, with little sympathy in her voice. "It's been a year, after all, but still..."  
  
Cole's interest was piqued. "A year since what?"  
  
Frannie glared at his obvious curiosity. "A year since her husband killed himself," she snapped back, "on this day, if I remember correctly." She went outside and tugged at the metal gate. "Get over here and help!" Cole resisted the urge to shove her aside before he pulled the screeching gate shut in front of the dark, empty shop.  
  
"That's it, then. Show up here tomorrow at eight o'clock sharp." Without another word, Frannie marched to her car and drove off, tires squealing.  
  
Cole wandered back to the delivery truck, completely nonplussed. Apparently Tom didn't own a car, as Cole only found what looked like house keys in his pockets.  
  
After a few minutes of rummaging around in the glove box of the truck, Coe discovered Tom's wallet, complete with sixty dollars and a driver's license with his address. It was within walking distance, so Cole set off along the dark sidewalks and thought about Marie.

No wonder she had become distant when he asked the date. After only a year, the memories would still be painfully fresh. Cole still didn't understand what it all meant. He had been sent here for a purpose. Was he supposed to help Marie? How?   
  
By the time he reached the sparse, drab apartment, Cole was too tired to plan anything. He pulled off his shoes, lay back on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.  
  
****

**[Hands out cookies to all] Thanks so much for the reviews! **

**MysteryinTheMaking: Thank you! I'm still in shock that someone actually likes this story! I'm trying to update more frequently; I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!  
  
Maricole: Yeah, I think Cole has been the most abused character by far...which is, of course, why I'm torturing him in this fic. He really does deserve better closure than the series gave him.  
  
Barb6: I'll try to post more often so you can avoid those painful pins 'n needles. I'm glad you like my writing, and I hope you're enjoying the story so far!  
  
PhoebeColelovers: Will Cole end up with Phoebe? We'll see.... [laughs maniacally] **


	7. Clearing up a few thingsand action! Thri...

**See? I'm not dead! Still writing....sorry about all the delay (if people are actually following this story), I really do suck with deadlines and writing on a regular basis. Hence, the month-long gaps between chapters. To make up for it (kinda), here's a somewhat longer chapter (hey, it's pretty long by my puny standards, anyway!)**

**Enjoy! Review! **

Cole awoke slowly, feeling oddly cheerful and refreshed despite the stiff, narrow bed. An ancient clock on the bedside table read 5:46. He made his way to the cramped bathroom and washed his face vigorously, savoring the shock of cold water on his skin. He glanced up at the mirror and did a double-take at the old man staring back at him.

His good mood evaporated and he scowled, watching the old man do the same. It was bad enough that he was trapped behind this façade of decrepitness for a whole week. Never mind vanity; Cole intensely disliked being treated as a feeble old man. Although, he had to concede it was slightly better than the outright hatred and disgust he had encountered with his own face. But only slightly.

The shower was frigid, even to a half-demon, and Cole wondered how the old man stood it. Maybe he just didn't take showers anymore. Cole grimaced at the thought and toweled off, still shivering. Shaving quickly became a lost cause; it was next to impossible without being able to see his own face in the mirror.

Cole picked out the least antiquated outfit available from the sparse closet and found the clothes to be a close enough fit, though slightly baggy around the waist. He resolved to get some new clothes before the week was out.

His stomach rumbled and he realized he didn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He rummaged through the refrigerator and came up with a sorry inventory: a half gallon of skim milk, some wilted lettuce, a tomato, a carton of Healthy choice margarine, a small portion of chicken, and a loaf of bread. Apparently old people didn't eat that much. Cole shoved the food back inside and grabbed his – Tom's – wallet. To his relief, there was enough for a bagel and coffee, and maybe some leftover for lunch. Cole shook his head bemusedly. How could the old man live like this?

Cole pondered his situation on his way to the café. He was trapped behind another man's face, alive for exactly one week and supposedly at the mercy of Thursday Next and her demonic gopher. Judging by Thursday's inopportune arrival yesterday, he was being watched, possibly every moment. The thought didn't bother Cole overly much. In the Underworld, suspicion and paranoia ran rampant, and near-constant surveillance by one's employers was quid pro quo. Cole was confident that he could elude detection, given the right circumstances. And there was one other thing...

Cole calmly served off the sidewalk and stepped out into the street, directly in front of a speeding dark red minivan. He stood stock-still as the vehicle hurtled towards him, the screech of brakes sounding too late. The van froze just before impact, the front bumper nearly touching Cole's legs. He could see the driver clearly, suspended in the awkward position of slamming on the brakes and the horn simultaneously. Her face was a mask of shock and panic.

Cole peered around the front of the van to the sidewalk, where the same effect was present. Everything was frozen in a bizarre tableau of normal life: people walking to work, sitting in chairs and chatting with friends, ordering coffee. An unfortunate skateboarder was caught suspended in midair, seconds before a painful collision with the pavement. An eerie silence blanketed the entire scene, making the city feel alien and cold.

"Very clever."

Cole deliberately took his time in turning to face Thursday, savoring the moment. She was standing with her arms crossed, wearing a bright neon t-shirt and a carefully blank expression. "I told Tomika you'd figure it out. Eventually."

Cole ignored the slight, still caught up in the exhilaration of victory and a newfound hope. "You can't banish me. You _need_ me." He gestured to indicate the frozen van. "If I die, your little mission fails. You can't have that." He stepped closer to Thursday, trying to provoke a reaction.

She simply craned her neck to look up at him expectantly, making no move to retreat from the uncomfortable closeness. "So? What do you want?"

"I _want_ to stay here, alive, in my _own_ body. I _want_ to see Phoebe. I want my life back!" Cole grew steadily angrier and ended up nearly shouting, forcing Thursday to take a few steps back.

"I thought we covered this!" Thursday snapped back, seemingly fed up. "You _can't_ get your old life back! There's nothing left of your body but a stain on the floor in an _alternate dimension_. You're lucky we could get you back here for a few hours, let alone a week! You want to see Phoebe? Go ahead! Tell her everything! How long do you think it'll take before she starts mixing up the old vanquishing potion?"

Cole glared at her in silence and Thursday pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "Listen, this is for the best. Really. We're trying to help you; you just have to trust me."

Cole made to effort to hide his contempt at the thought, and Thursday rolled her eyes. "Alright, so the 100 year old half-demon has trust issues" She snarked at him, "but if you just go with this you'll understand."

"That's not good enough. Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"You have to discover this truth for yourself." Thursday looked surprised at herself. "Ooh, that was deep. Besides, where's the fun in just _telling_ you?"

"I am not here to have fun." Cole was losing his cool again.

"Not even with Phoebe?" Thursday quipped, mock-innocently. She steered him away from the front of the van, releasing his arm quickly when he glared at her. "Don't try another suicide stunt again, either. We don't have the power to pull off another time stop, so you're on your own." She pointed at the café that Cole had been heading to before their conversation. "That place has really good bagels, by the way." She winked at him and disappeared, and time resumed its normal course.

The van squealed by and Cole hastily stepped back from the street, feeling the breeze from its passage graze his face. He heard a muffled thud and a moaned curse as the skateboarder landed harshly. The normal noises of the city quickly blended into a nearly unbearable cacophony compared to the silence a few moments ago.

Cole glanced through the café windows before entering, wary of meeting another needy innocent. He felt a shock as a woman in line turned slightly, revealing the familiar features of his beloved. Phoebe was laughing and chatting easily with an older woman next to her in line. Cole entered the café unhesitatingly.

He took his place in line three people away from Phoebe. He forced himself to look at the blackboard menu to pick out his bagel, but he kept getting drawn back to her face. She was perfect to him. Just seeing her happy, even at a distance, seemed to heal some of the wounds Cole had sustained from a lifetime of fear and mistrust. Just at that moment, Phoebe looked away from the woman she was talking to and spotted him. Cole froze, and then she smiled at him.

"Tom? How are you?"

Cole felt a surge of disappointment but managed to smile through it, nodding back at Phoebe. "I'm all right, Miss Halliwell. How's life as a celebrity?"

Phoebe tittered, embarrassed. "Oh, you know, deadlines, angry editors, and not enough coffee. The usual. Besides, I'm not really famous."

"That billboard near my apartment says otherwise." Cole had noticed the enormous advertisement late last night. The image served to strengthen his determination not to lose her again.

Phoebe blushed, obviously pleased. "You mean the one next to Benitoes?"

"You've got them all mapped out then, eh?" Cole chuckled at the thought as Phoebe flushed a deeper red. "It's okay," he added kindly, "you deserve them."

"Thank you." Phoebe smiled gratefully. "So you live right around here, then."

"Yes," Cole gestured vaguely in the direction of the apartment. "Right down the street, actually."

"I never knew." Phoebe smiled wistfully. "Just think, I've probably walked by your place a thousand times without even knowing it."

They continued to chat between ordering breakfast, and Cole marveled at how easily the conversation flowed. Talking with Phoebe felt comfortable and safe, even when he was pretending to be someone else. For her part, Phoebe seemed to hold a great amount of affection for Tom, as he had shown up at the Manor countless times for deliveries. The frequent visits had lead to spirited conversations and a fast friendship.

Phoebe picked up her order and Cole felt a stab of sadness at what it meant. She was leaving him again. She said her good-byes to the other woman in line, and Cole knew he was next.

"What say we continue this conversation over breakfast?" Phoebe waggled her eyebrows at him, mock-seductively. Cole smiled with surprised delight. He gallantly offered her his arm, playing along. "Shall we?"

They marched off to a table together, Phoebe fighting giggles the entire way as patrons looked on amusedly. Cole made a point of pulling out her chair first and seating her with gravitas before taking a seat himself. Phoebe beamed at the display of chivalry, and Cole nearly blushed.

"So, ah, don't you have to go to work sometime?" He asked awkwardly to cover his embarrassment.

"My hours are pretty flexible, and I don't work until nine. As long as my column is in on time, my editor doesn't really care. She used to hate it, but now I think she's pretty resigned to me leaving or showing up at random." At Cole's questioning look, Phoebe quietly explained. "You know how crazy the house can be sometimes, right? We tend to have a lot of... emergencies. This way, I can have my cake and eat it, too."

Cole nodded. "You really love your job, don't you?"

"Oh yes," Phoebe gushed, "I mean, sometimes it gets overwhelming and the deadlines are _seriously_ insane, but I feel like I'm really making a difference, you know? Helping people."

Cole couldn't help but smile. Phoebe looked so vibrant and enthused with the thought of helping innocents; it truly was her calling. Her willingness to help others was one of the things Cole admired about Phoebe, along with her strength.

They finished their breakfast contentedly, Cole asking Phoebe about her life and current friends. He wanted to know everything that had happened since he had gone. He skillfully deflected most of her questions about Tom's life, and even fabricated a few amusing stories, just to make her laugh.

By the time they had finished breakfast, Cole had imagined and discarded several plans, all designed to keep Phoebe with him. She stood up and stretched, and Cole checked his watch surreptitiously. It was 7:45. Phoebe noticed and looked at the clock on the wall.

"Wow, it's been an hour already?" She shook her head sheepishly. "I guess I'll head into work early, I've got lots of stuff to catch up on anyway."

Cole tried not to appear too eager. "May I walk you to work?" He silently thanked his luck that the Bay Mirror office was just within walking distance from the café.

Phoebe looked pleased. "Sure, as long as you're not busy..."

Cole thought of Frannie and his job but quickly dismissed them. She could handle it if he was a little late. Nothing was keeping him from Phoebe. "My time is yours."

Cole did his best to prolong the half-hour it took to reach the Bay Mirror, but he felt the weight of futility when they finally sighted the building. He was about to propose a lunch appointment, anything so that he could see Phoebe again, when he felt it. A shiver inched down his spine, and Cole stopped dead. Phoebe immediately noticed and stopped too.

"What is it?"

Cole didn't answer, too focused on finding the presence that had disturbed him. A demon was close. For the first time, Cole noted their surroundings. He had insisted on several "shortcuts" that had actually lengthened the walk to the Bay Mirror, leading them through back streets and alleyways. At the moment, they were in the middle of another such narrow alleyway, a thin strip of sky visible between the tall buildings on either side. The busy street at the end of the alley suddenly seemed much too far away for Cole's liking. This was perfect ambush territory.

Something hard slammed into Cole from behind with the force of a sledgehammer, and he sprawled on the ground, stunned. Phoebe shrieked as the demon turned to her, leering and wielding a heavy lead pipe. Rows of spines protruded from the demon's forehead and chin and jutted out along its collarbone. Phoebe kicked the pipe out of its hands and went on the attack with a roundhouse kick at its head. The demon ducked and swept Phoebe's legs out from under her with a devastating kick of its own.

Phoebe's breath was knocked out of her at the painful impact and she lay stunned while the demon extended a serrated spine from its arm. The demon looked down at her with disdain.

"Stupid witch."

Phoebe caught a glimpse of the demon's glowing silver eyes before its arm came down in a deadly strike.

She barely managed to block the arm with her feet, kicking out desperately. The demon staggered back slightly, and Cole grabbed it from behind. The demon grunted and flailed around wildly, slashing the air with its spine-blade. Cole hung on grimly and pummeled it from behind. He regained his footing as the demon weakened and threw the creature against a nearby dumpster with bruising force. He glanced at Phoebe to make sure she was alright, and the demon lunged.

"Tom, look out!"

Cole jumped back at Phoebe's warning and the demon's arm missed his stomach by inches. He grabbed the arm at the elbow and twisted, using the demon's momentum to push it past him and against the wall. Phoebe ran over with a broken wooden spar and stabbed the demon, then pulled Cole away as it exploded into flames.

Cole sank against the wall as his adrenalin drained away, leaving him exhausted. Phoebe leaned against the nearby dumpster and stared at him silently. The fear was back in her eyes.

"Tom...what you just saw..."

Cole held up a hand to stop her. "Was a demon." He forced himself not to look away from her shocked face. "And you're a witch."

Phoebe leaned away, and Cole could imagine what she was thinking. Suspicion had made her face turn distant and cold. "It's alright," he managed, nearly pleading. "My wife was one too."

Phoebe studied him intensely for a few agonizing moments, clearly debating his story. Cole held his breath, knowing this was his last chance. "Alright, mister," she finally said in a serious voice. "You've got some explaining to do."


	8. More running around

**Nothing Charmed actually belongs to me, yadda yadda, disclaimercakes.**

**Definitely an AU story, with Cole torment and fun. **

**And the saga continues! Um, about the delays in updates...I am deeply shamed. Apparently it takes me five years to actually write a short story. Who knew? Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed anyway! Now that I have some Spring Break time, maybe I'll actually be able to get chapters up in a timely manner - well, I can always hope, can't I?**

Cole endured Phoebe's frigid stare through the entire taxi ride until they reached the Manor. The change in atmosphere was dramatic and painful; cold silences where there had once been friendly conversation. Cole knew that the situation would only worsen inside, with Phoebe's sisters to judge as well. He could understand their fear and distance from him. They knew the dangers of exposure to the world. Prue had died because of it.

Phoebe ushered him inside first, clearly unwilling to turn her back on him. A small, bitter part of Cole noted the unfairness. He had just saved her life less than ten minutes ago, and now she was already treating him like an enemy.

"Phoebe?" Piper's worried voice drifted towards them from the kitchen. Cole felt his stomach sink a little at her voice.

"It's me," Phoebe called back tersely, glancing at Cole. He tried to look as innocent as possible as he waited for her to make the next move. She didn't look convinced in the least, and silently pointed him in the direction of the living room.

"What's wrong? You said it was urgent," Piper emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She stopped short when she saw Cole, and her hands came up slightly, ready to cast a freezing spell.

"Yeah, what's all the fuss about?" Paige descended noisily, her stylish boots clomping on the staircase. She joined her sisters in the living room and looked at Cole curiously. "Hi."

"Hi," Cole tried a weak smile, feeling more than a little unnerved. Paige had always hated him the most, fervently convinced that he was evil. It didn't help that she was right, at the time. She never trusted him, and Cole knew he couldn't really blame her, even for all those times he felt like she turned her sisters against him. He knew now that Paige wasn't to blame for the downfall of his and Phoebe's relationship. Even in the alternate dimension, something had gone wrong between them.

"Why don't we sit down?" Phoebe quickly interjected, moving them all in the direction of the sofa and chairs. Cole reluctantly settled on one of the wicker chairs, while all three sisters clustered on the sofa. Phoebe launched into the story of the demon attack, including Cole's intervention. By the time she had finished, Piper and Paige had become equally guarded. Phoebe took the lead in questioning.

"What are you?"

"Wha -?" Cole stuttered, taken aback. He had been prepared to launch into a story about Tom's dead witch wife when Phoebe had finished, hopefully convincing the sisters that he could be trusted. He hadn't expected to be accused as a demon right from the start.

"That demon was extremely powerful. No sixty year old man could fight him off like that." Piper put her hands up again, and Paige narrowed her eyes. "So, what are you?"

Cole felt trapped. All chance of the sisters believing him was gone, and he was out of plausible stories. A part of him was relieved that he didn't have to pretend anymore. He kept his hands by his side, hoping that Phoebe at least would notice his non-threatening posture. "I'm not here to hurt you, I swear. Please, just hear me out before you do anything rash." He glanced at Piper's hands nervously, and then looked back to Phoebe, trying to make her understand. "It's me, Phoebe. It's Cole."

Phoebe gaped silently, completely stunned. Her sisters recovered much more quickly. Cole jumped out of the chair, clumsily knocking it over as a pillow next to him exploded. Piper fired again, decimating an end table as Cole sprinted for the front door. He skidded around the corner, narrowly avoiding another blast that slammed into the wall. He yanked open the door and sped outside, hoping that the fear of exposure would keep Piper from following him.

He slowed down once the Manor was out of sight, his fears somewhat assuaged. He was safe for now, but he had no doubt that the sisters would be hunting him soon. Paige would probably lead the chase, but Phoebe would want to be the one to vanquish him. He grimaced at the irony. He reviewed those last few moments in his head, when Phoebe stared at him like he was a ghost. Was there anything in her eyes but fear and hatred? He doubted it. He had been an idiot to even think that things would work out.

Stewing with regrets and anger, Cole headed for Frannie's flower shop, where he would be – he checked his watch – at least three hours late. At least he would be relatively safe there – he knew the Charmed Ones would never attack him if he was around other people. A reasonably crowded shop would be the perfect cover.

Frannie was _not_ pleased to see him. She was of the opinion that the only excuses for lateness were death, paralysis, and blindness, in that order. Cole's perfect physical health and lack of a satisfactory explanation worked her into a towering rage. Fortunately, the shop was busy enough that her tirade remained relatively short. She screamed at him for a minute or two, threatened to fire him, shoved a pile of order forms in his arms and stomped off to deal with the impatient customers at the desk.

Cole absent-mindedly shuffled through the orders as he retreated to the back room, still mulling over the problem of the Charmed Ones. He couldn't stay here forever, and they were bound to locate him soon, through witchcraft or just common sense. At least they couldn't scry for him; he hadn't left any blood behind this time. Just the same, he couldn't stay for long. _I'll be gone in a week, anyway, _Cole noted with bitter irony. If the sisters would just wait, their problem would vanish on its own.

He picked out the orders laconically and hauled them up to the front of the shop.

"There he is!" Frannie crooned sweetly, her face a twisted grimace of pleasantry. "We were just wondering what was taking you so long, Tom!" The irritated customer merely sniffed and glared daggers at Cole, no doubt upset over the waste of her precious time. Frannie ripped a package from his hands and rang it up, trying valiantly to salvage the situation through apologies and jokes to the discontented woman. Cole dumped the rest of the packages on a counter and turned to go, uninterested in the crisis.

The jingle of the bell at the front door caught his attention and he watched as Piper, Phoebe, and Paige marched in the shop, looking grim. Cole quickly ducked behind a card rack just in time. He inched around the rack to stay out of sight as the sisters approached the desk.

He couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but he didn't dare get closer. Phoebe spoke to Frannie while Paige idly fiddled with the key rings and Piper carefully scrutinized anyone who moved. Frannie's expression progressed from confused and shocked to righteously outraged at what Phoebe was saying. She spoke a few words in return and pointed decisively to the back room. All three sisters made their way to the back of the shop, and Cole hunched down further.

Piper and Phoebe went into the back room, while Paige stood guard at the door, scanning the shop suspiciously. Cole cursed and inched backwards slowly, out of sight. The front door was at least fifteen feet away, and the card stands wouldn't hide him for the entire distance. He studied the crowd desperately, and seized upon a lonely looking old lady. He hurried into the crowd and sidled up next to the woman, touching her arm in a friendly matter.

"Excuse me, do you know the way to Chester Street?" Cole barely listened to her detailed directions, concentrating on keeping his back to Paige. He glanced frantically at the door, still much too far away, and cut off the old lady mid-sentence.

"Actually, I'm pretty hopeless with spoken directions, miss," He explained smoothly. "Would you mind terribly pointing the way outside?"

The older woman looked at him slightly suspiciously, and then shrugged. "I suppose not, I'm on my way out anyway. It isn't far."

Cole smiled his thanks and tried not to rush her to the exit, aware of how suspicious that would look. Even so, each step seemed to drag on forever, and Cole's back was rigid with tension. He barely withheld a shudder of relief when the shop door dinged shut behind them.

The older lady turned and started pointing out streets. "Now dear, it isn't that difficult, just go down Theodore Avenue right there…" Cole nodded along and pretended to listen, forcing himself to stand still. It wouldn't do to cut and run now, Paige might spot him. He waited until the kind lady had finished, thanked her profusely, and set out in the direction she had pointed. He walked for about two blocks, then ducked into the nearest alley, listening carefully for any signs of pursuit.

"What are you doing?" The indignant screech made Cole twitch and drop into a combat crouch. Thursday was fairly hopping with rage beside a dumpster. "You're not supposed to be here! Why are you "

Cole smirked humorlessly at Thursday as her face reddened. "What's wrong? Everything not going according to plan?"

Thursday spluttered and then clenched her fists, taking deep breaths. Cole took a moment to savor her obvious irritation. With everything that she had put him through, he figured a little aggravation in kind was more than fair. Unfortunately, she calmed down remarkably fast.

"You told Phoebe," she stated flatly, more of an accusation than a question. Cole noticed that her hands were still fisted and white-knuckled at her sides. He nodded reluctantly, tempted to just ignore her and walk away. Something in her level gaze made him stop, however. "And it blew up in your face," she finished, nearly sneering outright.

Angrily, Cole started to retort, but she cut him off urgently. "There's no time for that now," she glanced at her watch and looked at him, suddenly frantic. "You have to get to Marie!"

"What?" Cole was blindsided by the sudden change in subject. "What does she -?"

"It's part of why you're here!" Thursday futilely tried to usher him towards the street, looking increasingly desperate. "She lives on Larkin Street, apartment 627. You'll have to take a cab, otherwise you won't make it in time." Cole stubbornly refused to move, looking down at her.

"_Please_, Cole," she pleaded, suddenly almost in tears.

He was taken aback by her drastic shift in tactics, but he still refused to be moved. He was tired of being ordered around like an errand boy by a girl and her gopher. "What is going on?" he calmly and carefully enunciated, staring Thursday down.

Thursday bit her lip and looked away, then forged ahead. "On Monday, May 3rd, Marie Landvik decides that she can't go on anymore. She skips work for the first time in her life and stands out on the balcony of her apartment." Thursday checked her watch before looking straight at Cole.

"If you don't stop her, in ten minutes she's going to jump."


	9. Realization

**Disclaimer: I own neither Charmed, nor the characters therein, nor the actors/actresses who portray them. Not even Cole...sob! **

**Yet another chapter! Gasp! The plot thickens into a porridge-like consistency...it's tasty!**

Cole gripped the door handle for dear life as the taxi careened down the street. It appeared that the driver was well-acquainted with the meaning of the word "hurry," although he seemed to regard traffic signals, speed limits, and other vehicles as mere nuisances. Cole flinched as a bus narrowly missed obliterating them, and turned his attention back to Thursday, pale-faced in the seat next to him.

"How much time?"

"Six minutes," she replied tersely, staring at her watch as if she could slow it down through sheer force of will.

"What's that?" The driver shouted back, staring at him in the rearview mirror for far too long for Cole's liking.

"Nothing," he barked back, eager to have the driver's attention back on the road. The cabbie shrugged and turned back to his driving, swerving sharply to avoid a gaggle of pedestrians.

Cole briefly regretted his moment of hesitation in the alleyway. For only a moment, a part of him had been tempted to just walk away. The sheer callousness of it bothered him almost as much as how _easy_ it felt. Cole was extremely familiar with the darker sides to his nature, having lived as Belthazor the demon for longer that he liked to think. Even now, the fragility of his newfound humanity still terrified him.

For her part, Thursday had remained mostly silent, alternating between staring out the window and fixating on her watch as the seconds ticked past. She looked drained and frightened, and Cole wondered what else was at stake here. Thursday looked up and caught Cole studying her. She gave him a tired smile. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"If you would stop yanking me around like this, maybe I'd be less difficult!" Cole lowered his voice quickly, thankful that the driver hadn't seemed to notice. "If you had told me from the beginning…"

"Would you really have helped? Or would you have been too busy chasing after Phoebe to care?" Thursday sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry. It's just…nothing is going right. And if we don't get there in time - " she stopped, looking sick. "You were supposed to go work _on time_, find out Marie didn't show up, and go to check on her. Everything would have worked out. Now…" she waved her hands around helplessly.

Cole regarded her closely. "You still could have told me," he insisted quietly.

"No. I couldn't."

"Why _not_?"

"Because that would be breaking the rules! And the instant that happens, this is all over. No more chances, Cole!"

Cole sat back, his mind whirling with new questions. Who made the rules? And what did they get out of this? He had a sinking feeling that he already knew some of the answers.

Thursday's attention snapped to the window. "We're almost there," she announced hurriedly. Cole dug in his wallet for the fare as the taxi screeched to a halt. He shoved a wad of bills at the cabbie with a muttered thanks and jumped out of the taxi, barely closing the door before the taxi squealed off. Thursday was already running for the entrance to the apartment complex, and Cole sprinted after her.

"How long?" he shouted at her, ignoring the stares of passerby.

"Two minutes!" she yelled back, making a beeline for the elevators and waving for him to follow. Cole slapped the call button for the elevators and dove for the first set of open doors. He selected the seventh floor and punched at the "door close" button, bouncing impatiently on his heels. The elevator started ponderously up, and Cole watched the numbers tick by with agonizing slowness. He was immediately convinced that he could have run up seven flights of stairs quicker. Thursday was stock-still next to him, her mouth moving soundlessly as she stared at her watch. Cole looked away quickly, refusing to ask. He didn't want to know how much time was left. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and Cole bolted down the hall, counting the door numbers as he went.

He knocked loudly on door 627 as soon as he reached it, shouting as well for good measure. "Marie! Marie, are you there? Marie, it's Tom, answer me!" There was no sound from inside the apartment. Frantic, Cole braced himself and was about to break the door down when Thursday shouted at him.

"Wait!" She was staring at her watch with a hopeful expression.

The door opened a crack and Marie gaped out at him, looking disheveled and bewildered. "Tom? What are you doing here?"

Cole felt a rush of relief and grinned stupidly, forgetting for a moment to think up a plausible story. He had saved an innocent. Without the Charmed Ones' help or his demonic powers, to boot.

Marie's expression quickly shifted to concern. "Tom? Are you alright?" She reached out to touch his arm. "Is it your asthma?"

Cole shook himself back into reality, carefully studying Marie's face. She looked even more exhausted than before, yet here she was, worried about _him_. He felt an absurd impulse to laugh that he quickly suppressed. "I- " he broke off, suddenly unsure of how to approach this. "I was worried about you." He finished simply.

Marie looked surprised, then guarded. She drew back suddenly. "Is this because of work?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "I just needed a day off, Tom. I've been very tired." She sounded almost angry.

"Marie - "

"Listen, I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" She softened her tone and smiled unconvincingly. "I just need some rest today." She started to close the door, but Cole lunged forward and firmly held it open. He ignored her shocked reaction, deciding that now was not the time for subtlety.

"Marie, listen to me," he said evenly and quietly, "I was worried that you might do something to hurt yourself."

She started backwards, shaking her head. "Don't be ridiculous, Tom!" Despite her denial, there was something like fear in her eyes. "I think you should leave." She pushed against the door.

Cole didn't budge, but he felt his opportunity slipping fast. "Please, Marie," he tried desperately, "just let me in to talk for a while. Five minutes, that's all. After that, I'll leave if you want me to."

Marie stopped trying to close the door and looked up at him. "Why?" she whispered hopelessly.

Cole swallowed hard at the desolation in her face. It looked too familiar for comfort. "I care about you, Marie. I know this has been hard for you. Please let me help." His voice nearly cracked.

She looked away and silently let him into the apartment.

Cole took in his surroundings, surprised at the homey feel of the place. Despite its small size, the apartment was warm and welcoming, with bright pictures on the walls and comfortable-looking furniture. He noticed that the sliding door to the balcony was open, and shuddered. It appeared that his intervention wasn't a moment too soon.

Marie stood off to the side with her arms crossed, turned away from him. Cole cleared his throat nervously, once again unsure of how to begin. A picture by the door caught his eye. It was in a simple silver frame, and showed a couple laughing and holding each other next to a waterfall. Cole recognized Marie, and the kindly-faced man next to her as her husband. He realized with a flood of embarrassment that he didn't know the man's name.

"David." Startled, Cole straightened and saw Marie standing behind him, her arms still crossed. "That was my husband. I'm sorry that you never met him before…" She took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes.

"I know that you miss him," Cole began awkwardly, and Marie's eyes began brimming with tears. "But that - " he nodded towards the balcony door, "that isn't the answer."

Marie gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. "How did you -?" Cole gently put his hand on her shoulder, smiling sadly. "I've been there," he said shortly.

Marie's face crumpled, and tears began to flow. "It still hurts so much!" She folded into his ready embrace, sobbing brokenly. "Why did he do this to me? Why did he leave me?"

Cole held her tight, his heart aching at the cries of loss and abandonment. His own sorrow over Phoebe blended with the moment, and he fought back tears himself. _Why did you leave me, Phoebe?_

Thursday sniffled, nodded silently, and disappeared, leaving Cole standing in the apartment, making soothing noises as Marie cried into his shoulder.

* * *

With a steaming cup of tea in each hand, Cole carefully navigated his way to the couch where Marie was sitting. She accepted the tea gratefully and smiled weakly up at him. "Thanks." 

Cole nodded and settled into the chair across him her, staring into the depths of his tea for inspiration. Marie's sudden snort made him look up in surprise. She was shaking her head, her mouth twisted into a rueful smile. "I never would have guessed…" she waved her hand limply at him, "this just seems so strange, you showing up like that. It's like you knew…" Cole froze, but she didn't seem to notice. She chuckled bitterly. "I guess my life hasn't really been normal anyway. Not since David - " She broke off and reached for a tissue on the coffee table.

"Can you tell me about him?" Cole asked gently, not knowing what else to say.

Marie hesitated, then nodded. "David was an amazing man. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, and he never wavered once in his life. At least…" Her voice shook, and she seemed to steel herself. "Not until he committed suicide." She looked drained at the effort it took to finish the sentence. "He loved hiking and white-water rafting, even though I was too scared to get in the boat with him." She laughed. "He used to tease me about that. He always seemed so fearless…" She trailed off, looking lost.

Cole reached out and clasped her hand gently. He wished that he could erase the pain from her face. "What did he do for a living?"

"He worked in real-estate. He assessed the value of places so they could set a good price. It didn't pay a lot, but we got by." Marie smiled. "He used to get so excited over some places that he found. I think he secretly liked poking around into people's lives a little, learning about them through their apartments. I think it made him feel like a detective or something."

She frowned, her forehead furrowed in thought. "It's strange, but…the last time we talked, it was about his work. He was working on the penthouse apartment in the Steinhart building, and he found something. It was hidden behind some sort of panel, and he said the alcove wasn't on the blueprints..." Her face tightened. "I was out grocery shopping when he called, and he said he'd be home before me. When I got there - " She choked on renewed tears. "He just sounded so normal before! I didn't think anything was wrong!"

Cole's mouth had gone dry, and his stomach was twisting violently. "Marie," he said carefully, "what exactly did he find in the apartment?"

Marie looked confused, but she answered readily enough. "I'm not sure; he described it as some sort of… glowing orb, or something. It sounded silly at the time."

Cole sat back as the pieces fell into place, Thursday's mocking voice echoing in his head. _Closure…__unfinished business ...you have to discover this truth for yourself._ He knew why he had been sent to help Marie. He knew exactly what David had found in that apartment…_his_ old apartment. Yet another loose end that Cole had left behind when he died.

His father's soul.

* * *

**Thanks so much for all the great reviews; it really helps to keep this story going!**

**Girl Version of Chandler: Intriguing penname...I'll do my best to deliver a high-quality story (such as it is) for you wonderful readers!**

**Maricole: Thanks so much for hanging in there through the long hiatus. I'm afraid the Cole abuse won't stop anytime soon...it's all in the interests of closure, though. **

**Shel: Cole does seem to have that consistent trait his inability to listen to others when he should...especially when it comes to Phoebe. So rebellious and stubborn! **

**Badgirl21: Maybe they will and maybe they won't...wait and see...**


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